


An Experiment

by AlekD



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlekD/pseuds/AlekD
Summary: Data enlists the help of a friend to test his sexual programming
Relationships: Data (Star Trek)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	An Experiment

“Are you certain that you are still comfortable with this?” Data asked, sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed. 

You smiled, taking another sip of the fruity drink he’d replicated for you from a new recipe he’d written himself. It was quite strong, as far as synthehol went. 

“I wouldn’t have agreed if I wasn’t,” you said, sitting next to him and placing the glass down on your bedside table. “I’m just honored that you thought of me for this particular experiment. Why did you choose me, by the way?”

He tilted his head in that way that meant he was processing your question. “I assumed that given the physical nature of our relationship you would not be opposed to taking the next logical step.”

“The physical nature of our relationship?” You asked of the patient android seated comfortably next to you.

“Do you not agree? Perhaps I have misinterpreted your intentions. You touch me 70% more often than any of the crew.”

You thought back to the countless times you had brushed against his hand or given him a hug in greeting or goodbye. It was also true that you were as likely as not to sit close enough to him that your thighs would touch. You were a naturally affectionate person but now that you thought about it... Data had recently become even more of a natural outlet for your affectionate nature. You were comfortable with him. Safe. That explained why you hadn’t been shocked or offended when he had taken you aside one evening in ten forward and proposed this little experiment.

“I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way.” 

His eyebrows furrowed and, if he wasn’t so adamant about his lack of emotion, you would say he looked worried.

“Was I wrong to interpret these gestures as indicative of sexual attraction?”

You might have been embarrassed at being called out so bluntly if it had been anyone other than sweet Data doing the calling out. He asked with such earnestness that there was no other option than to be perfectly honest.

“No, Data. You didn’t misinterpret anything. I’ve been attracted to you for a long time. It’s just that, well I never thought anything would come of it. And I didn’t want to offend you or come off as…as disrespectful or anything. I mean, I didn’t think you were interested in this sort of thing.”

“I am interested in all aspects of humanity,” he answered simply. “Romance and physical intimacy seems to play a large role in human relations, but I have struggled to get more familiar with these aspects of human life due, I believe, to the very misgivings you spoke of. People assume that I am not interested in, or even incapable of sexual or romantic relationships.”

You reached for his hand and squeezed it, smiling as he returned the squeeze. He had managed to say, in so many words, that he was lonely. Of course, he would argue that he was not. The whole ‘I do not feel emotions’ routine. And yet, the subtly hopeful look in his eyes belied the truth.

“It’s not that people don’t…you know…want you, Data. You’re a beautiful man. Kind and patient and competent. Highly attractive, if I may say so. I think it’s just that, for humans, the experience of sexual attraction is, well, a feeling. So, I’ve got to ask, Data. If you don’t feel arousal…how is it done? I mean…how do you…?”

“Ah,” he said, apparently catching your drift. “The physical response necessary for sexual intercourse is produced via a subroutine that I can trigger at will.”

“You mean you just..? Turn it on?” You fought the urge to giggle. God forbid you offended him. It was just such a bizarrely candid conversation to be having, and the synthehol was settling in nicely by now. You still had perfect control of your mental faculties, you were just feeling quite at ease.

“In a sense,” he said. “Though, on a couple occasions the subroutine has been triggered subconsciously. It was inopportune timing in those instances and so I was not able to take the time to determine the cause. That is what I am hoping to discover with your help.”

“You need me to try to turn you on.”

He nodded. “Yes.” He had modulated his voice, making it lower, softer than usual. Not quite a whisper, but you were aware of his maneuvers to shift the tone of the conversation to something less scientific. More personal.

“Well,” you said, scooting closer to him so that your thigh brushed against his on the edge of the bed “those inopportune circumstances you mentioned...what were you doing when the subroutine was triggered autonomously?”

He inhaled as if to speak, then tilted his head at you. “I tell you these things in confidence. This is not the sort of thing I want others to know about me.”

“Of course, Data. Just between us.”

He nodded and continued. “The first time was at starfleet academy. I was celebrating a birthday with a friend at a drinking establishment. One of my peers, a woman I knew only passingly, became intoxicated. There was a shortage of seating and she chose to sit on my lap and stayed there for a considerable portion of the evening.”

You chuckled. “Oh dear.”

“In that particular case, I believe it was merely the physical contact as she shifted her weight throughout the evening that triggered the program. Naturally, I aborted the subroutine as soon as I noticed it had begun.”

“Well it seems perfectly logical that direct stimulation would cause the program to run. It’s much the same in humans.”

“Indeed. However I have not been successful in replicating the autonomous reaction on my own.”

“I see.” Maybe you needed another drink. It was hard not to blush at the thought of Data’s attempts to recreate that scenario by himself. He did not seem embarrassed as he told you the story though, and you tempered your shyness with the knowledge that he trusted you enough to share such private information. 

“The other occasion is even more intriguing to me,” he continued. “I was working with one of the crew members and she suddenly kissed me. It took me by surprise but my autonomous reaction was quite overpowering in the few seconds before I shut it down.”

“What happened next?”

“I decided to pursue it further and she and I engaged in a short lived romance,” he said simply.

“Short lived?”

“Her motivations for initiating such a relationship with me were not conducive to longevity. She decided it was best not to pursue it further after only a few days.”

“Oh Data, I’m sorry,” you said, squeezing his hand again.

“The experience was valuable despite it’s brevity,” he said. He spoke so plainly, so bluntly. Of course, he always spoke like that, but it was different when the topic was something so personal. Something that, had you been in his shoes, would have been quite painful. Your instinct was to comfort him, but he didn’t need comforting. At least, he didn’t seem to.

Still, the instinct was hard to ignore, and you reached out to touch his cheek. It always surprised you a little bit how warm he was. Part of your mind expected him to be cool to the touch, as cool as his demeanor. The heat generated under his skin made him seem so much more human as you dragged your thumb over his cheek.

“I know you wouldn’t say that it hurt your feelings to go through a breakup, but I want you to know that you deserve someone who really cares for you. Loves you.”

“Do you?” He asked. His eyes darted own to your lips for a split second. You could swear your heart stopped.

“Of course I love you. You mean the world to me, Data. You know that.”

Your breath caught in your throat when you felt him place his hand above your knee. He leaned in ever so slightly. “Will you kiss me now?” He asked.

You chuckled softly. “Since you asked so politely.”

His head tilted minutely as you gathered your courage and touched your lips to his. He didn’t move, staying stock still as you kissed his bottom lip.

“Anything?” you whispered.

“Inconclusive. Try again, please.”

You threw your arms around him and climbed onto his lap. Well, he’d said that it had worked in the past, right? He looked surprised, but only for a moment, and soon his hands were at home on your hips as you pressed against him and kissed him again.

He grew less timid by degrees. He started out quite stiff, not seeming to know quite what to do with his lips. But when you teased his mouth open, his tongue met yours with an earnestness that might have been indicative of experience. You had to wonder just how far that previous short lived relationship had gotten. 

You’d often wondered what it would be like, being with Data this way. He certainly looked human enough, but did he feel human? Would it be robotic and cold to be kissed by him? You’d tortured yourself imagining a lonely emptiness that might have overcome you had Data ever actually touched you, like how it felt to create an ideal lover on the holodeck. But now that it was happening, emptiness was the furthest thing from your mind. He was solid, human, in all the ways that really mattered. He wasn’t merely a blank canvas to project your own desires onto, but an actualized person in his own right. You could sense, in every sweep of his tongue and squeeze of his hands, the independent curiosity that had motivated him to bring you to this moment.

“Your heart rate has quickened. Have I frightened you?” he asked softly.

“No, Data. I’m not frightened,” you assured him. “I just…you’re very good at kissing.”

His head gave a series of minute jerks and you smiled, recognizing this behavior as Data processing a compliment. “Thank you,” he said.

You exhaled slowly, trying to reign in the way his kiss made your mind turn to jelly. “Is it working? I mean, should I try something else?” you wiggled slightly, purposefully grinding your hips against his lap in a way that would have been embarrassingly brazen in another context. 

His fingers gripped your hips tighter. “It is difficult to say. There has been an interruption in my main cognitive functions and the number of concurrent calculations and subroutines has been reduced by 64 percent”

“So…you’ve been distracted from your normal thought processes, but your sexuality program hasn’t yet been triggered.”

“Precisely.”

“I see. Well, maybe your politeness programming is still holding out. It’s not always in good taste to interpret a simple kiss as foreplay.” 

“Perhaps if we continue?” he asked cautiously.

“Of course,” you grinned. “But let’s change it up a bit. May I remove this?” You asked, sliding the pad of your forefinger under the neckline of his uniform.

He hesitated and you sensed a certain uneasiness in him at the thought of removing his uniform. You knew that, to Data, his uniform was much more than just clothing. It was his identity. Taking it off would mean exposing himself to you in a way that he had done with precious few others. 

“It’s alright if you don’t want to,” you added.

“No. It is alright. I’ll just…” he reached back to the zipper at the nape of his neck. Reaching around his back, you helped him to slide the zipper down, exposing the smooth expanse of his back before pulling the top off of him and letting it fall to the ground.

You looked in his eyes for a moment, silently appraising his comfort level before letting your hands explore his exposed skin. He was…perfect. This was not a matter of opinion, but simply an understanding of the facts. There were no freckles, no moles, no little birthmarks or other such imperfections on his skin. You let your hands drag down his arms, feeling the curve of his biceps. He was sturdy, certainly, you could only guess at just how strong he really was, but he was not ostentatiously muscled. He was an extraordinary being in a perfectly ordinary shape. 

“Does my body please you?” he asked, with a slight quirk of an eyebrow.

“You’re beautiful, Data,” you said honestly. “But testing your ability to trigger my autonomous sexuality programming isn’t why you brought me here, is it?”

“No. You are correct. May I undress you now?”

Still caught off guard by the bluntness of his questions, you could only nod. He lifted you as though you weighed nothing, standing you on your feet in front of him while he remained seated on the edge of your bed. As you were off duty for the evening, you were wearing a simple dress rather than your uniform. There were no zippers or snaps or fasteners of any kind, he merely had to drag his palms over your shoulders to push the sleeves of the dress down your arms. The silky fabric of the dress pooled at your ankles and you felt your face flush at the open curiosity in his eyes as they darted over your exposed skin. Your knees felt wobbly and you were suddenly lightheaded, overcome with self consciousness in the presence of this aesthetially perfect being. He reached for the hooks of your bra but then suddenly stopped and looked up at you earnestly.

“You have said that your increased heart rate does not indicate fear, but I feel I must ask again. Do you wish to stop?”

“No. I don’t want you to stop.”

“You do not seem at ease any more.”

You reached down and ran your fingers through his hair, surprised by how soft it was. “It’s not that I want you to stop. I’m just nervous that you won’t think I’m pretty,” you said with a lighthearted grin in an attempt to mask the deep insecurity you were hiding.

His expression became serious. “Y/N, whether this experiment is successful or not has no bearing on your attractiveness. According to those on board with whom I have spoken about you, you are a highly desirable woman. If we are unsuccessful in indirectly initiating my sexual subroutines, that is my shortfall, not yours.”

You took a deep, steadying breath. “You’re sweet, Data. Have I told you that?”

“Many times.”

“Go on, then.”

He undressed you then with a more careful, hesitant touch, frequently looking up into your eyes, apparently searching for any hint of fear or discomfort. You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously, but let your eyelids flutter closed as he traced the lines of your body with his fingertips.

“Well?” you asked without opening your eyes.

“Your figure is…quintessentially feminine.” As he said this, his hands followed the curve of your waist to your hips. “Aesthetically pleasing. No—”

“No?” you opened your eyes and looked down at him just as he was pressing his lips to your solar plexus.

“Correction. Aesthetically ideal.”

You scoffed, blushing again, but you felt as though a weight had been lifted. 

“Aesthetically ideal. That’s high praise from you, darling.”

He took your hands and pulled you back onto his lap, your thighs straddling his hips as he kissed you again, this time his hands pressing against the small of your back, locking you against him. You couldn’t help but whimper at the feeling of your skin against his. Your mind attempted to rationalize how the culmination of years of frustrated fantasies had led to this moment. Despite the fact that this was all just an experiment to determine the limits of his sexual programming, having his hands on you felt right. It felt safe. You melted against him, leaning into his kiss and allowing yourself to be putty in his hands. 

“We must discuss something,” he murmured then.

“Oh?” you answered breathlessly.

“I am realizing now that I have made a rather significant oversight.”

You straightened up, trying to reign in the desire he’d stoked low in your belly for fear that he was about to discontinue this experiment.

“We have discussed that it would mean if the experiment failed, but not what we would do were it successful.”

“Has it been?” you asked. 

“I believe I can say now with certainty that the experiment has been a success. Certain processes are now in motion, which I did not consciously trigger,” he said. “I can shut it down now and leave it at that. Or I can—”

“Let it run it’s natural course,” you finished.

“Yes.”

You leaned in and kissed his neck, feeling his pulse against your lips for a moment. “It’s not so easy for me to simply discontinue these processes once they have been initiated, Data. Please, if you don’t mind…”

“I am relieved to hear you say that,” he said, smoothly lifting you off of his lap just long enough to lay you down on the bed. He propped himself up on one elbow and let his fingers trace your skin with maddeningly featherlight touches. “If it is alright with you, I would like to explore some other areas of study.”

“Data, have you not done this before?” You asked, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

“Once. I was, at the time, under the influence of a virus that rendered me unable to maintain my presence of mind during the act. It was not unpleasant, but neither was it particularly illuminating in terms of study.”

“Well, uh…how can I help?”

“I would like for you to attempt to describe the sensations you feel when I touch you in various ways.”

You took a shaky breath. “I mean, I can try. I’m not exactly a wordsmith.”

“Honesty is preferable to artistic embellishment.”

“It’s also…Data, it’s a little embarrassing to say these things out loud, you know. I’ve never done that before.”

“Nothing you say will be repeated. I give you my word. And, if it makes it easier, you may whisper. I will be able to hear you.” He was nearly whispering himself by this point, his fingertips stroking up and down your inner thigh in a way that left you willing to agree to just about anything.

“I’ll do my best,” you whispered.

“Tell me what you are feeling right now.”

“I..” You closed your eyes, searching for the words to make sense of torrent of sensation being triggered by his feathery touches and disorienting scrutiny. “I feel…nervous. A little lightheaded. Giddy. A bit foolish for feeling so much when you’re not feeling anything.”

“You have begun to shiver,” he said quietly. “Do you feel cold?”

You shook your head. “Not shivering, Data. Trembling. I’m not cold.”

“What does it feel like to tremble?”

“Um…” he was leaning over you now, his lips traveling over your neck making it already more difficult to speak. “Like there’s energy building up inside me with nowhere to go. Electric, in a way.” You chuckled. “You might be familiar with this one actually.”

“Interesting. Perhaps.” His hand moved from your thigh to trace the swell of your breast before swirling his thumb around your nipple. You gasped, and your reaction caught his attention.

“Would you say that you are sexually aroused?”

You laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, I would say that.”

“Tell me, where in your body is this feeling experienced?” 

His lips were brushing against your collarbone as he spoke and you struggled to process his question. 

“Well…everywhere, I suppose.”

“Everywhere? Can you be more specific?”

You took a few deep breaths and did your best to turn your attention inward to the sensations of your body. Being turned on had always been a simple matter of course before, a process so natural it didn’t warrant any further examination. It was the first time you’d ever really thought about what it felt like, let alone tried to put compartmentalize it into distinct sensations or put it into words.

“I feel it…first in my shoulders, I think. As if the tension of the day is being drained out of me. But at the same time, theres a tightness in my chest. I’m short of breath. Then theres a…uh…” you licked your lips “a sort of weakness in my legs. Like I can’t quite trust my knees, you know?”

“No, but go on.”

You laughed again, the absurdity of this moment threatening to override your ability to do as he asked. 

“Right here,” you said, taking his hand and placing his palm down on your lower stomach, below your belly button. “Its warm and heavy here. It feels like…I don’t know. Like honey.

“Like honey?” he asked, sounding confused.

“I’m doing my best, Data.”

He kissed your temple with remarkable sweetness, making your stomach flip anxiously. “You are doing fine. How does it feel…here?”

His hand slid further down, delicately slicking his finger over your clit. An embarrassing squeak came from your throat and your hands tensed on his shoulders but he didn’t react. He merely waited for your answer. You swallowed thickly and attempted to gather your thoughts, to really hone in on what you were feeling when he touched you.

“Tight. Like a spring being loaded. It aches.”

“Is it painful?”

“I wouldn’t say painful. But its…insistent.”

“And if I do this?” he asked, beginning to swirl his fingers in small, persistent circles. You gasped again, your hips bucking reflexively against his hand. 

You took a shuddering breath. It was growing increasingly difficult to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak them aloud. He was so calm, you felt like you must look insane to him, the way you twisted and the stupid noises you made. 

“It feels better. It relieves the ache.” You grinned. “It also makes it worse. Much worse.”

“Fascinating.”

You covered your face with your hands, shaking your head. “Data, don’t make me say any more. I can’t.”

“Your level of sexual desire has impeded your language processing abilities?”

“Yes, yes. That’s it exactly. Oh, please Data. Kiss me again.”

Thankfully, he obliged. He pushed your legs apart with his knees and settled between them before his lips met yours again. His kiss was different this time, apparently his programming was adept at determining the context of a kiss and he adjusted his technique accordingly. This time he was hot and insistent, his fingers still working those maddening circles as his tongue moved in such a way that promised aptitude in other areas. You couldn’t think of that now, though. You were lost, pushed past the bounds of decency as you panted against his mouth and arched your back, writhing in time with his precise ministrations.

“Data,” you whimpered. “Please.”

“Would you like me to stop?”

“No. No. I want…”

“You want me to go faster? Slower?”

You shook your head, laughing at the sweet earnestness in his voice. “No, I need—”

“What do you need?”

You took hold of his face. “Data, I need you inside me. Now, please.”

He nearly fell over himself in his haste to remove his pants. You grinned widely. It was crazy to think that only a short time ago you were wracked with nervousness and self consciousness. There was no need for fear or uncertainty with Data. You should have known that. 

He fell back into your arms and you hugged him against you, simply relishing the heat of his body for a moment. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he kissed you again. Softer now. Tender. He pulled away, just enough to watch your eyes as he entered you, his lips parted, a mixture of worry and wonder in his slightly furrowed brow. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around him, wanting him closer, always closer. 

“Does it hurt?” he whispered.

“No. It’s good.” That’s what was left of your earlier attempts at descriptive eloquence. It’s good.

Still, that seemed to be enough for Data. He took it as the green light it was and started to move, slowly at first, then more confidently. You ran your fingers through his hair, some distant part of you surprised at the tenderness he was capable of. You’d marvel at that later, but in the moment all you were aware of was his breath mingling with yours as he peppered your face with delicate kisses while he rocked in and out of you. 

You hadn’t been fucked like this in years. Not since the early days of young love, where everything was fresh and new and exciting, and every kiss had felt like the end of one life and the beginning of a fresh one. 

You squirmed against him and, as though he was reading your mind, he slid a hand between your bodies to continue the sweet circular torture he’d begun before. It was all too much. You never wanted it to end, you felt like you could curl up in this moment and live there for the rest of your life and never miss a thing, but he was too skilled. It couldn’t last. And as your toes began to curl and you felt the familiar sparkling sensation building at the crux of your legs, your gripped him tightly, as to a lifeline.

“Data,” you whispered desperately.

“It’s is alright. I have you.”

You clutched him, sinking your teeth into his shoulder to keep yourself from shrieking as you tumbled over the edge of the precipice. He held you close, whispering something against your ear, though you were in no mind to make out he words. 

It took you some time to catch your breath. Your limbs grew heavy and he let you sink into the mattress, though your legs continued to tremble as he rolled onto his side. He pulled you close, tucking your head under his chin and tracing little patterns down your back.

“What do you feel now?” he asked.

“Mmm…sleepy. Happy.” You looked up at him. “A bit possessive.”

“Of me?”

“Does that bother you?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. It is an expected outcome of sexual intimacy. My anticipation of arousing such feelings factored into my original decision that you were the ideal partner for this line of experimentation.”

“Is that so?” you asked, your brows raising in surprise.

“Yes. I believe that we have, as Commander Riker informed me, ‘Good Chemistry.’”

You touched his cheek and scooted up a moment to kiss him in agreement.

“I feel a bit sad though, too,” you continued.

“Sad? Why?” Concern suddenly creased his forehead.

“I just wish you could feel what I feel.”

“One day, perhaps. I have not given up hope that developing emotions may be within my grasp at some point in the future.”

“I hope I’m around when that happens, Data. I want to be the girl you feel that for the first time with. Can I claim that privilege now?”

Data only nodded. One solemn bob of the head that was so formal and serious it almost made you laugh. Without speaking a word, a promise had been made, one that you knew you would carry in your heart for years.


End file.
